Consequences
by BornToDie101
Summary: After King Robert's eldest daughter angers Cersei Lannister, she is forced to pay the ultimate price; marrying her Uncle Jaime. But Mara believes her marriage isn't what it seems and she soon uncovers a family secret that could cost her her life.
1. Chapter 1

_A little cunt, that's what he is, _Mara thought, her anger roiling in her stomach. Her brother, Joffrey, was once again torturing a fool, making cruel jokes and poking him with the short sword the prince thought he was manly enough to wear. "Would you stop that, you insufferable beast!" Mara finally burst, feeling sorry for the fool who was trying desperately not to cry. "You've tortured him quite enough for a day." Joffrey glared at his half-sister but waved the fool away, mumbling he was bored of the japes anyway. With the whole court looking at her, the princess rose and heard the footsteps of her personal guard, Daryn Oakheart, ringing behind her. "Daryn, please ensure that poor fool gets as far away from here as possible. Give him gold and a horse for the journey to Casterly Rock, where I'm sure he will be better treated."

"At once, my lady," Daryn replied, loyalty seeping through his pores. The knight had been the guard of Mara since he was a boy of ten and fifteen and she a babe still suckling on her wet nurse's teat. From the moment he saw the baby with dark hair and Stark grey eyes, he knew he would give his life if it meant she lived.

"Thank you, Daryn. I find I'm quite tired, I shall go to my bedchambers." She didn't need to look behind her to see her knight's low bow and the hint of pride on his face, for his princess once again standing up for the downtrodden and misfortunate. As she rounded the corner, she crashed into her uncle by marriage, Jaime Lannister, a cocky smile on his handsome face.

"Apologies, my princess, I was just hearing tales of how you saved a fool from the clutches of our sweet prince."

Mara resisted the urge to scoff. "If Joffrey is sweet, then I'm Visenya born again." She tried to edge her way around the knight but he blocked her way, smiling down at her. There was something in Jaime's green eyes, something that was always there when he looked at the princess.

"If I recall, you are much lovelier than dead Visenya."

"If I recall," Mara replied sweetly. "You weren't born then. Or were you? Perhaps you're old enough, Gods know you look it." As Mara left Jaime behind her, she felt a twinge of guilt. It was unlike her to be intentionally cruel to someone. Even though she was as headstrong as her father, the King, she had made it her life's mission to make the world a better place for the misfortunate. However, the more she mulled over it as she climbed the steps to her personal tower, she decided she didn't feel nearly as bad she supposed she should. Jaime Lannister was always making crude, suggestive jokes to her since she turned twelve and she lost her baby fat, making way for a curvy, lithe body that singers made songs about. Her hair that used to be scraggly and unmanageable made way for pure black locks, silky and shiny. And her eyes… her eyes were grey, her mother's eyes. She could tell that it pained her father to look into them, to remember his lovely Lyanna before she died.

Her bedchamber was large with yellow furnishings to remind her of her house. But if someone were to look closely, they would see hints of grey in the decor, a homage to her mother's house. Mara called to her handmaid, Prya, a pretty girl who was a close friend of the princess' and asked for a hot bath full of oil to make her skin smell beautiful. The princess slipped into the hot water and relished in the cleanness she felt, the dirt of the Lannisters seeping from her skin and into the bath. It wasn't long before a knock at the door interrupted her joy and she reluctantly let Prya wrap a gown around her soaking body and let the person in.

"Ah, uncle, it's a pleasure," Mara spoke truthfully, always happy to see Tyrion Lannister, the only one of his house she could stomach. "Come in, have some wine."

Tyrion gave her a small bow and waddled on his small legs to the table which held the rich wine Mara was accustomed to. "Thank you, princess. Is this Dornish wine I taste?"

"It is, my lord. I have barrel sent over from Dorne every year." Tyrion nodded his appreciation of the fine drink and sat down on a soft couch, covered in cushions. Prya quickly brushed Mara dark locks before they dried and secured the gown with a soft, silk belt. Mara smiled at the handmaiden and the girl knew she was dismissed, exiting the room with a small bow to her mistress. "To what do I owe the pleasure, sweet uncle?"

"I've come to congratulate you on your outburst earlier today, but I also came to warn you."

Mara sipped from her own goblet and ate a small piece of cheese from the plate in front of her. "I can deal with anything Joffrey throws at me."

Tyrion nodded. "But can you deal with your step-mother?"

"I see," Mara said. "So Joff once again went running to his mother, clutching at her skirts and demanding his mean sister be punished?"

"You have the right of it," Tyrion replied unhappily. "The queen is angry with you."

"If I had a gold coin for every time your sister was mad at me, I would be richer than your lord father." Tyrion smiled at that, knowing it was true. Cersei despised her step-daughter, angry that she was the king's favourite and daughter of Robert's one true love. It made her even more livid that Mara looked so much like her mother with her Stark grey eyes and thick black hair. "She may be the queen, but she forgets that my father is the king and the most powerful man in Westeros. Cersei Lannister cannot hurt a single hair on my head."

Tyrion gulped down his wine and poured another cupful, ready to drink before he told Mara the news. "I fear she can hurt you in other ways." Mara raised her eyebrows and stared at Tyrion, waiting for an answer. Tyrion hated hurting the sweet girl, so wilful but still young and naive at ten-and-seven. "She plans to marry you to my brother, Jaime."

The princess looked too shocked to speak, her empty goblet spilling from her hands and landing on her lap. "You are playing a cruel joke."

"I fear not, sweet niece. Cersei has demanded you marry Jaime so we can further our ties with your father's house."

Mara gazed down at her lap and seemed to notice the goblet but did nothing about it. "He is my uncle by marriage, it isn't right."

"The Targaryen's used to marry sister to brother." Tyrion pointed out.

"But I am not a Targaryen!" Mara shouted, standing up, her small height still towering over Tyrion. "I am a Baratheon and a Stark. I shall not become a Lannister simply because your sister is angry with me." She sat down again, trying to calm her thoughts. "What does my father say about it? Surely he cannot mean for me to marry a Lannister? He told me long ago that he planned to wed me to someone from House Martell." Mara had been looking forward to going to Dorne where the people were kind, happy and free, the land beautiful and always warm.

"Your father agrees, though reluctantly. He fears for his relations with my house and believes that another marriage could help."

Mara always thought it unfair for parents to arrange their children's marriage, but this was another level of cruelty. She was to marry the Kingslayer, a man more than half her age. A thought suddenly crept into her head. "Jaime is part of the Kingsguard, he cannot marry."

"He has agreed to leave the Kingsguard so he may marry and become heir to Casterly Rock," Tyrion said. "I can assure you, Jaime will never be cruel to you and you will like Casterly Rock, it's very beautiful."

Mara felt as though she would have cried had she not been so shocked and angry. "I don't want to marry Jaime, I am to marry a lord in Dorne. I am to spend my days in the sun, watching children play in the cool lakes and listening to the exotic birds all around me as I sip my favourite wine." Her future had been so certain, so concrete and now she felt it melt away from her.

Tyrion watched the princess' misery in silence, knowing she was in pain, knowing no words could comfort her. The Imp had no idea why his sister had demanded the marriage as he had a sneaking suspicion that both his siblings were lovers also, his niece and nephews born from incest. But he knew better than to say such things and he knew nothing good would come out of this marriage…


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you everyone for the favourites and the follows. I hope I can do you guys justice! **

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The dress Mara wore was beautiful, gold with red trimmings to signify her new house. Her hair was left down in it's natural curls, her locks smelling of rosewater and slightly damp from her tears. "You truly look a princess today, m'lady," one of her handmaidens said with a bow of her head. Mara smiled at the girl, but thought she would love nothing more than to be a common woman, marrying the man she truly loved.

"My princess, we are ready for you now," a faceless guard announced at her doorway while her handmaidens hurried around her like squawking birds, fixing her hair and making sure her dress fit properly. Mara took Prya's hand, holding onto her friend desperately as she was led out of her room and down the tower stairs. She knew her wedding wouldn't be an overly-exaggerated affair as it was planned at the last minute, but she thanked the Gods she had a beautiful gown to cover her pain with.

When she entered the Great Sept, Mara gaped at how many people had shown up for the wedding. Even Tywin Lannister had arrived, never smiling but she could see the happiness in his eyes, for his real son would soon be his heir. The king came up beside Mara and held onto her arm tightly as though he never intended to let go. "Please, father," she whispered under her breath as everyone turned to watch the two walk up the aisle. "For the love you say you bear me, please don't make me do this."

"I had to marry Cersei Lannister for the good of this house," her father replied gruffly. "We all have to make sacrifices, girl."

Mara felt a tear trickle down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away, pretending to scratch her face. At the head of the Sept, Jaime stood waiting for her, his golden hair glinting in the sunlight, his red cloak on his broad shoulders. _He is handsome, I cannot deny that, but he has no honour, _the princess thought as her father let go of her arm and she was forced to climb the steps herself. Her legs felt weak beneath her and for a second, she was sure she was going to tumble down in front of everyone. _You are a Baratheon and a Stark, _she reminded herself. _You can do this._

The High Septon smiled piously down at her but Mara could only look at the ground, shame and sadness flashing through her as she thought of the long years of an unhappy marriage she would have to endure. "We are here in the sight of the Gods to join Princess Mara of House Baratheon and Ser Jaime of House Lannister…" Mara heard nothing after that, but she said the right words in the right places and she soon felt the weight of the red cloak on her shoulders. She lifted her head high and knew what came after the cloak trapped her. Jaime leaned forward and planted a small kiss on her lips, his breath smelling of mint and the ceremony was over, the people in the Sept clapping happily.

Jaime gripped her arm gently and led her to the large dining hall where a feast was being laid out for the guests. Mara and Jaime were given the seats of honour at the head of the table, while their family spread themselves out beside them. Cersei sat next to Jaime with Mara's three siblings, fury pulsating from her flawless skin. Her father seated himself next to Mara and Renly, Stannis beside his youngest brother. The princess was happy to see Tyrion seated amongst them, helping himself to wine from the trays of serving girls. _I wish my mother were here, _Mara thought wistfully, _no daughter should be married without the eyes of her mother on her. _

But the more she thought about it, she was sure her long dead mother would disapprove of this marriage. Targaryen's married sister to brother for centuries to keep their bloodlines pure but the Starks of Winterfell had more honour and pride than that. Lyanna Stark would think her daughter marrying her uncle by marriage unnatural and barbaric. And Mara would be quick to agree with her. The last time she was at Winterfell, when she kissed her cousin, Robb, with a giggle and a blush, the boy spoke of marrying her one day. "You are my cousin, Robb, it's wrong."

"I don't care," he insisted, and spoke of the ever-present Targaryen's marriage customs.

"You are a Stark, Robb," Mara scolded him. "You mustn't speak of things. Our family does not agree. And neither do I."

Robb had frowned then and quickly kissed her again before running away in sadness. Mara wished she was marrying Robb now; he was her cousin but he was gentle and loving, and the same age as her. Beside her, Jaime stirred, bringing the princess back to the present, where her father was giving an already slurred speech about joining the Baratheon and Lannister houses once again.

"And may they have many healthy sons!" The crowd roared, returning to their meals and drinks with relish.

_Oh Gods, children. I will be expected to bear Jaime's children with a smile on my face and sadness in my heart. My sons with come forth in blood and pain and I will have to let their father hold them and teach them how to fight with steel and leather. _

Servants came forth one at a time, offering the new couple the choicest parts of great legs of lamb, fat capons and dishes of vegetables swimming in butter and spices. Mara waved them all away, the smell of the food making her stomach squirm and Jaime himself only ate a mouthful here and there. The princess looked down the table, past her husband to see Cersei turn her beautiful head and give Mara the most bone-chilling glare she had ever seen. Her heart sped up at the hate that radiated from her step-mother and she stood up quickly. "Pray excuse me, Jaime," she managed to mutter before she ran from the hall, Daryn close on her heels.

The corridor outside the hall was thankfully empty and it was there she let her tears escape, great sobs wracking through her chest. "My lady," Daryn muttered, Mara making no effort to hide her tears. Her guard had always seen to her hurts and given her a shoulder to cry on when she was upset. He was more a father to her than her own.

"I'm fine, Daryn," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "It's just so overwhelming in there. Please go and join the feast." Her guard made no attempt to leave and Mara was grateful for her one true friend.

"Give us a moment," a voice said and Mara didn't had to lift her gaze from the ground to know who it was. "I wish to speak to my daughter."

_You are not my mother, _the princess thought bitterly. _My mother was the kind Lyanna Stark, someone you could never measure up to. _She heard Daryn leave, his armour chinking as he walked back into the hall. "Why did you leave in a hurry?" Cersei asked and Mara was forced to look at her step-mother with a long finger thrust under her chin. "You do realise how lucky you are to marry my brother? He is too good for a Baratheon, for anyone but a Lannister."

"So the rumours are true," Mara said, her voice strong.

"Of course they're true, and you will be buried in a shallow ditch if you tell anyone. My brother is the only one I ever truly loved," she sighed. "I wanted to love your father when we were forced to marry, when he was still handsome and young, a daughter clutching at his breeches. But he ruined that opportunity when he muttered your mother's name as we lay together for the first time."

"My father loved my mother," the princess pointed out. "More than he would ever love you."

Cersei slapped her then, throwing her weight into the hit. "You think because you're the daughter of that drunken oaf, you can speak to anyone the way you wish? Well you are nothing compared to me and Jaime will never be happy with you." Her beautiful face was twisted in rage as Mara gazed at her defiantly, refusing to touch her red cheek.

"If you ever hit me, or so much as touch me, your lord father will know of your sins, I promise you that. And then your pretty head will be mounted on a spike where it belongs." She didn't wait for Cersei to respond as she turned away from her and walked quickly to her bedchambers, not caring she was missing her own wedding feast.

Mara noted that Prya had arranged the room in a romantic gesture with oils and candles by the bed. The princess walked forward and guttered the candles and dumped the oils in a corner of the room. She knew if Jaime attempted to touch her, she would either kill him or be sick on him. The princess threw herself on her large bed and despite wanting to, drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. Visions of a pretty woman with a halo of blue roses on her head swam in front of her eyes. The woman smiled and cried tears of blood while Mara screamed at her. The princess woke up in a sudden fit of terror, sweat covering her face. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, wanting to escape and she realised with a start she was not alone in the room.

"I was wondering where you were," her husband said from his seat across the bedchamber. "Your father is so drunk that he had to be carried off to bed. My sister was not happy."

Mara rubbed her eyes sleepily and looked at Jaime. "Your sister is never happy."

"She is when she is with me," he replied. "That's the only time I see her happy."

"So you still intend to sleep with your own sister, even though you are married now?" Mara dreaded the answer but knew it was coming.

"Of course I do. You're a pretty thing, don't think I don't find you comely. I'd take you right now if I could stomach the look of disgust on your face."

Mara wanted nothing more than to be somewhere else in the castle, Daryn and Prya by her side to keep her safe. "Don't expect to share my bed any time soon," the princess replied stiffly. "I am not giving my maidenhead to a man who fucks his own sister."

She expected him to get angry or say something harsh at least, but he simply smiled his golden smile and stood up, making his way to the doorway. "My father expects this marriage to be consummated as soon as possible. Soon you'll have my son in you, that I can promise." He gave her a pointed look before retreating out of the room, leaving Mara on her own to weep for her already failed marriage. 

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Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King was now dead, his wife, Lysa, fled with their young son back to the Eryie. Her father was a mess, drinking all day and all night, neglecting his usual duties, leaving his small council to do the work for him. Mara dreaded the future of the Realm with no Jon Arryn; he was the only one who could control Robert's money and indulgences but knew immediately who would be chosen for the next Hand.

Straight after Jon's funeral, the king, his royal family and their guards and servants were on the Kingsroad, heading for Winterfell, heading to Mara's mother's family. The last time she had been there was five years ago and she remembered fondly of playing with her cousins in the high, safe walls of Winterfell.

On the third day into the journey, her father came to her room in an inn they had stopped at on the way. She was once again alone, her husband probably somewhere with Cersei. The thought of the two them together was enough to make her lose her food sometimes and not a day went by when she did not panic, visions of the two swimming in front of her eyes. "It's only me, girl," her father said as a way of a greeting and he sat down on the small chair in her room, the wooden thing bowing slightly under the weight of the king.

"I've heard you have not yet consummated your marriage," he grumbled, avoiding his daughter's gaze.

"Do you want me to sleep with that monster? The one they call Kingslayer?" Mara asked, laying out her traveling outfit for the next day. She was allowed to ride on her horse, Brenna, with the king's people instead of being stuffed in the wheelhouse with her step-mother and siblings. She liked it on the road, but would have preferred being further away from Jaime who seemed to be everywhere she looked.

"Of course I don't, but he is your husband, it is your duty to provide an heir for him."

Mara had to resist the urge to scream at her father but the anger was bubbling in her stomach, waiting to overflow. "How could you wish this upon me?" Mara whispered, sitting down on her lumpy bed, looking at her father, a once great king. "How could you want the only child of Lyanna Stark, the woman you say you loved, to be married to a man twice her age, her uncle by marriage?"

The king had the decency to look down in shame, but the defiance was still there. After a while, he looked his daughter in the eye, the shame gone, only sternness remaining. "You will consummate your marriage by the time we have reached Winterfell or I shall disown you."

Mara could not believe what she was hearing, this from her own father, the one who taught her to ride and hunt. Before she could respond, Robert stood up and headed for the door. "I'm doing this for your own good, girl." He told her before exiting the room, leaving Mara to cry herself to sleep once again.

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**More to come soon!**


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